


In Flight

by snowpuppies



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-06
Updated: 2009-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowpuppies/pseuds/snowpuppies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All good things come to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Kitty Poker](http://kitty-poker1.livejournal.com/) and [Bewarethesmirk](http://bewarethesmirk.livejournal.com/).

The time had come.

He’d foreseen it would all end eventually—as all things do—and he’d thought he was prepared for it…but there was no balm to soothe the ache in his chest, one that expanded day by day as his lover grew more and more restless.

It had been eleven years, four months and seventeen days since the first time they’d kissed, and it was eleven years, four months and seventeen days more than he’d expected to be given.

He looked up as the portrait guarding his quarters opened: it was Harry, looking wind-blown and rumpled. It was one of Severus’ favorite looks on the boy. He studied his lover, committing to memory the smallest details: exhausted limbs sprawled over the chair Harry was seated in, glasses fogged up in the coolness of the dungeons, a single drop of sweat sliding from his hairline, past his ear and beneath the neckline of wrinkled Quidditch robes.

Within moments, the glow of exertion faded and Harry’s face became pale. While Severus was eagerly surveying Harry’s body, Harry was just as fervently avoiding Severus’ gaze.

He watched as Harry clenched his eyes shut, brow furrowing as if in pain. “Severus...I—“ He opened his eyes and looked up at Severus’ face, before grimacing and bowing his head.

Protecting Harry had become a way of life for Severus, and even now, when the boy was thirty two years old, the need to shield Harry from harm overrode the pain in his chest.

“You’re leaving.” Quick, clean cuts were the quickest to heal.

Harry looked up, shock melting into grief, his face flushed, eyes glassy. “How did you…I—” He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “Yes.”

Silence, thick and still, hung between them. Severus felt as if he’d been punched in the gut.

Ragged hope coloring his words, Harry spoke again, “You…you could go with me.”

Severus clenched his jaw—if only it were that simple. “No. Harry, my age…I’m too old for adventure, I—“

“You’re not!” Tumbling out of his chair, Harry fell to his knees against Severus’ legs, grasping cold hands between his own. “Severus, you’re not _old_...we would be together. You don’t know, you might enjoy it.”

“Harry, I am much too set in my ways to make this change now,” Severus continued as if he’d not been interrupted. “I’ve lived at Hogwarts for nearly thirty years. I…I simply cannot leave.” He paused a moment, watching as a lone finger trailed the edge of Harry’s stubbled jaw. “You will have to make this journey alone.”

Harry buried his face in Severus’ lap. “I’m so sorry, Severus. I’ve tried so hard...”

“Hush.” His fingers slid into the tangled mass of hair, gently rubbing Harry’s scalp. “If you’ll recall, I knew from the beginning that this would happen.”

A sob escaped Harry’s throat, muffled by Severus’ robes. He felt a similar urge but he cut it off and pushed it aside: Harry needed him now.

“You’re not to blame. You are simply young, and I’ve kept you far longer than I had any right to expect.”

Harry’s arms came to wrap around his waist and Severus continued petting, his hands sliding from head to neck to back in a soothing motion.

He wasn’t simply speaking for his lover’s comfort; he was speaking the truth. When Harry had first come to him, swathed in puppyish enthusiasm and Gryffindorish naivety, he’d taken what was offered and plotted to keep it. He’d used all his Slytherin cunning to capture and hold Harry’s interest.

He’d taken a potion regularly to keep up with youthful stamina and had combined years of experience with every potion, charm and toy known to wizard to keep things interesting in the bedroom. Knowing that being stuck in a dark, solitary place day in and day out would not suit Harry, Severus had encouraged him to go out and meet with friends, try-out for professional Quidditch and take advanced Defense classes. He’d introduced Harry to his favorite writers, Muggle and Wizard, only half-surprised at the agile and intelligent mind Harry possessed. He’d even consented to dust off his old broom and spend some time in ‘friendly flying’ with Harry.

For eleven years, four months and seventeen days, Harry’s need for adventure was no match for Severus’ interventions. It seemed, however, that even the likes of Severus’ ingenuity had its limits.

Harry raised his head from Severus’ lap. “So, that’s it? We just….”

“Yes. This…seems to be the best course of action for us both.” Despite his frank assessment, Severus couldn’t seem to keep his hands from Harry’s face. His fingers traced cheekbones and brow, thumbs wiping tears from the flat of Harry’s cheek.

“Severus, maybe, someday…” Green eyes pleaded with Severus to make everything right.

Severus placed a finger over Harry’s mouth. “Harry, when I first consented to this relationship, you promised to stay with me forever.”

Harry’s face crumpled. “Oh, Severus, I don’t have to leave. I’ll find a way to stay. I’m sure there’s something…”

Severus almost smiled at his lover’s frantic dialogue. “No, Harry. This is something you…need to do.” He held Harry’s face firmly between his palms, demanding his attention. “You must understand this: I did not bring up your previous reassurances to place guilt upon your shoulders. I simply wished for you to avoid making promises you cannot keep.”

Harry nodded, eyes weary, then placed a soft kiss to Severus’ fingertip. Entranced with Harry’s mouth, Severus began to gently trace chapped lips, slipping between them into the wetness there.

Their eyes met.

A surge of lust overtook his body. He slid his hands to the back of Harry’s head and pulled Harry’s face to his own. The heat in Harry’s eyes flared to match and he launched himself into Severus’ lap.

Their mouths crashed together, wet and hot and desperate. Teeth clacking, hands leaving fingerprint bruises in an effort to get closer…closer….

Severus stood, steadying Harry as he got to his feet. He began to back them towards the bedroom, ripping the shirt from Harry’s chest before they tumbled into the bed. Harry groaned in response, fumbling to undo Severus’ multitude of buttons and whining when they didn’t cooperate.

“Severus…off,” He gave up on the buttons and simply began tugging at the material. “Off.”

A sound that was half-chuckle, half-sob reverberated from Severus’ chest. He scrambled for his wand, spelled his buttons undone, and bent to remove Harry’s trousers. When they were both finally bare, Severus rolled over, pulling Harry on top and locking their lips. They kissed…and kissed, tongues rubbing and hands wandering feverishly. It was slick and sloppy and anything but artful—in short, it was perfect.

He kept his eyes open as Harry kissed him, as Harry licked and stoked and sucked him, as Harry entered him, as Harry came….

He stayed awake long after Harry had drifted into slumber. He wanted this night ingrained in his memory so deeply that all the Dementors of Azkaban couldn’t suck it from him.

And in the dark of the night, he clutched the warm body of his lover to his chest, and stoicism gave way to grief.

 

***

 

Harry left five days later for the Continent. It was a Tuesday.

Severus went to class, ate three meals a day in the Great Hall, graded inarticulate Potions essays, and went to bed on time.

Albus congratulated him on coping so well.

It had been two weeks, three days, five hours and twenty-seven minutes since Harry had gone when a snowy white owl fluttered into his den, lighting on the back of a chair.

At the familiar sight, the dam he’d built around his grief crumpled.

A sharp barking sound was ripped from his chest and he fell to the floor. Harry was _gone_. His closet was half-empty and there were no wet towels on the bathroom floor and his quills were all exactly where he’d left them and Harry’s pillow had stopped smelling of Harry four days ago.

He was miserable.

There was a fluttering of wings followed by a soft hoot and Hedwig landed on the floor next to him, pulling a strand of his unwashed hair in greeting. Severus was never one to coddle animals—especially post owls—but he gathered the animal close, stroking the soft feathers twice before standing and depositing her on the perch that had been empty for two weeks, three days, five hours and thirty three minutes. He left the room and returned with a dish of water, five owl treats and a small mouse he’d planned to use for testing in the lab next week.

While Hedwig crunched on the rodent, he carefully removed the message from her leg.

The envelope contained a single photo of a rather sunburned Harry on a beach, white sands and foamy surf stretching for miles behind him. Harry wriggled his toes in the wet sand, a delighted grin on his face, before turning to Severus with a wistful smile. On the back of the photo were two words:

> _Miss you._

For the past eleven years, five months and six days, he’d known the inevitable would happen and his world would end…but Harry had proven him wrong before, and perhaps the brat would do it again. He sat, watching photo Harry twirling in the surf for hours. When Harry turned to wave, mouthing ‘wish you were here’, Severus felt something warm inside as a thing with feathers* flickered to life in his chest.

 

 

_Fin_

 

*Taken from Emily Dickinson's poem, ["'Hope' is the thing with feathers"](http://www.favoritepoem.org/poems/dickinson/)

 

Originally archived [here](http://snowpuppies.livejournal.com/105356.html).


End file.
